


Open Wounds

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [46]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post-Relationship, Post-breakup, going through a bad breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: Solas is in pain. Cole can feel it, but he doesn’t understand it. His attempts to make it better only makes things worse. Based on the post-breakup banter between Cole and Solas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr on June 21, 2015.

“Ar lasa mala revas. You are so beautiful.”

Cole’s words were quiet and not meant for her. Even so, a sick feeling bore into her stomach as Isii glanced up from her place by the fire. The spirit was crouched next to Solas who sat away from her, keeping his distance because that’s how things were between them now. Avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. No longer vhenan, but Inquisitor.  

Being around him at all hurt.

“But then you turned away,” Cole continued, his head tilting, his voice growing soft. “Why?”

“I had no choice,” Solas said quietly.

“Bullshit,” she muttered bitterly under her breath. Solas heard her, his eyes lifting briefly to meet hers before looking away. Varric said nothing as he sat beside her, cleaning his crossbow.

Cole’s eyes drifted to Isii, his face stitched into a look of pained sympathy. “She is bare-faced, embarrassed, and she doesn’t know. She thinks it’s because of her.”

Isii looked down into the fire, wringing her hands hard enough that her knuckles cracked, adding to the pop of the wood under the heat of the flames. Her throat felt tight, her eyes burning. _Fuck this,_ she thought. _I’m not going to cry. He’s not worth it._

“You cannot heal this, Cole.” Solas was visibly uncomfortable, the corner of his lips straining. “Please, let it go.”

“Perhaps Cole can get a better answer from you than I did,” Isii said, her tone as hard as the look she shot over to the mage. “Any answer at all is better than what I got from you.” When Solas looked at her, there was nothing but mournful pain in his eyes.

Seeing it made her feel sick.

“He hurts,” Cole said, watching her, “an old pain from before, when everything sang the same.”

“Cole-”

The spirit didn’t listen to him. “You’re real,” he said softly, “and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can’t. They sleep, masked in a mirror-”

“Cole, that is enough,” he snapped.

“-hiding, hurting, and to wake them-”

Cole stopped suddenly, his eyes widening in confusion as he gasped. He looked at Solas, puzzled, shocked, though his reaction made little sense to her. “Where did it go?” he asked, distressed.

Solas’s jaw was tight, his voice firm. “I apologize, Cole. That is not a pain you can heal.”

“And what exactly is any of that supposed to mean, Solas?” Isii asked. “Old pains and sleeping in mirrors? You obviously know what he’s talking about.” The elf stared at her for a long moment before turning his gaze away again. She felt her fists clenching against her lap, biting hard on her inner lip as her eyes grew wet. “That’s right, Solas. Don’t say anything. You’ve done such a good job of that so far. You wouldn’t offer explanations before when I asked for them, so why would I expect anything different now? Gods forbid I actually try to understand you.”

He said nothing, glaring down into the dirt. Cole looked between the two of them, concerned. 

“I was just trying to help,” he said nervously. “He’s hurting.”

Isii didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, the bitter sound that erupted from her falling halfway between the two. “Well, I guess I can take comfort in that. At least it means you give a shit.” She pushed herself to her feet quickly, storming off toward the edges of their camp.

“Inquisitor-”

“Pala adahl, Solas,” she snapped. He quieted then, saying nothing else as she left.

A tense silence fell over the campsite. Cole looked around nervously, his fingers fidgeting. “I should go talk to her.”

“I think both of you have done enough,” Varric said, his voice low and firm. “Give her space.”

Solas said nothing, retiring to his tent.  

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Pala adahl - Go fuck a tree. (She’s really not taking this whole situation very well.)


End file.
